Growing Pains

Looking back on the things I used to do or the way I used to be, I missed some of those things. What had happened to my avid book reading or my constant story writing (even if I never did finish a single one...)? What about all the constant drawing? Where was the girl who used to go to school and do all her work and, to a degree, actually enjoy it? Or the one that researched things of interest for hours on end on the internet or other information gateways? It seemed that I had disconnected me from myself in a sense, and now that I had fully realized it, I wanted to find the cord and plug it back in, even if maybe I'd never be able to go back to those things and habits fully, what with life starting to hit me in the face with its giant fists and all.

But either way, I had to try to get back a part of me that I had unintentionally left behind. What sort of alarmed me was the thought that perhaps I'd never really be able to...that it was what people called growing up, and all that was a part of the childhood me that I'd never grasp again. Why did growing up have to mean leaving behind things you used to love? How did these things just fall out of ones mind so silently to begin with? Ah, Life was a sly one indeed. I didn't care, I'd try anyway, being the stubborn person I was. That is, if I could ever find the time to get started on it...